Lethal Churros
by Celticknot14
Summary: A roleplay between myself and Flourescent Bloodstains. England has just returned from a voyage out to sea when he finds an... Unsavory character... Has been lurking around his precious colony in his absence. The hunt is on. Rated for blood, gore, swearing, hints of FrUk, and drama. This does tend to skip around quite a bit so apologies if it's kinda hard to follow.
1. Chapter 1

Haaaa So this is why I haven't uploaded any of my The New World? in awhile. I should have another chapter up in… Awhile… Yeah.

This is a roleplay between me and the lovely Fluorescent Bloodstains. I recommend checking out her story. As of right now there's only one chapter, but the story promises to be long, elegant, and wonderfully nerve wracking. (You're welcome for the plug, Miss Bloodstains~)

Note: There is absolutely _no _historical accuracy. It was written purely for fun. And I feel obligated to say any affection showed by anyone is Family affection.

Fluorescent Bloodstains was cast as England while I took the role of America.

I don't own Hetalia despite my birthday wishes and neither does Miss Bloodstains.

Enjoy~

Alfred glommed his caretaker eagerly. "Iggy! Big brother, you're finally back!" The blond chibi beamed up at his boss and laughed in delight. It had been what felt like years since he'd last seen the old fart-man he looked up to and was really glad to see him.

The older nation blinked in surprise, eyes softening slightly. He reached to put his arms around the smaller figure, picking him up carefully. "Hey… aren't you supposed to be at the palace…?" What had happened to his boss watching over the new world…? He hadn't been gone _that_ long, had he? Granted, he'd been out to sea and back, but still…

"Aw, that place is pretty stupid… It's all stuffy and boring like your boss. How old is that dude, anyway?" He cocked his head, attention span wandering to more interesting subjects before he got an answer. "Hey, what's The Tower? The stuffy old guy you call 'highness' threatened to toss me in there for messing with his son." Alfred paled slightly. "And whatever he tells you about mud down the kid's knickers is a lie!"

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a small sigh. Ah… he should have known… "You weren't playing nice again…? Alfred, I thought we'd gone over this… " He'd also have to talk with his boss about threatening America. He could understand the frustration the king held towards Alfred, but the tower was a bit much…

"Well he said you were a stuffy old poop that had to do whatever his daddy said and his daddy did whatever he said so he said he was gonna tell his daddy to take off your head because you are a smelly old poop who brought a pain in the arse back from a new world and that I was stupid and he really hated you and I didn't WANT YOU TO DIE IGGY PLEASE DON'T DIE!" He wailed the last part. "Then nobody'll take care of me and I'll shrivel up and die because no one else will want to feed me because I'm just a pain and I'm really sorry I shoved mud down his pants! But he totally had it coming."

He blinked slightly, taking a moment to actually register what the younger had said. He rubbed America's back, smiling somewhat. "The king wouldn't ever kill me on purpose… you'll be fine…" Or, at least, he really hoped the king wouldn't ever intentionally end him. It wasn't often the ruler of a nation actually wanted such extreme changes… Sometimes they got their name changed or things and rules got shifted around, but there weren't ever really instances where one actually died…

Alfred snuggled into his shirt, still looking worried. "I'll never have to eat French food, right? 'Cause I heard that was all snails and stuff… I like your cooking way better than snails…"

He let out a small chuckle, sitting down. "Of course you won't…" Really, his heart swelled a bit more each and every time the child complimented his cooking. He couldn't wait to rub that in France's nose…

He grinned up at him. "Dude that's awesome! But…" This he was a bit more hesitant about, an unusual trait for Alfred. "Uh… I don't wanna be rude or anything, but while you were gone This guy from Wanker-land; that's what I heard the king call it, and he gave me this… I dunno what it was called but it was totally awesome! It was… Uh…" He frowned, trying to think of how to describe the treat… "Uh… Anyway, I really liked it. Can we have those?"

A frown crept across his face. Another nation had been to visit Alfred…? In his own home, even… "Er… Well… What did they… look like…?" Oh if this was the same Wanker-land he was thinking of…

"Uh… Long and soft and sweet and brown and- Oh! Chooros! He gave me a whole big batch of the things!" He beamed, proud he'd been able to remember the name of the dessert on his own. "So can we make some chooros?"

The skin on his face turned scarlet with rage, taking a moment not to lose himself with the smaller nation. He didn't know, he didn't know, he didn't know any better… "I… Um… I don't really know. We'll see, alright…? But things that get fried in oil and rolled in flavorings like that usually aren't very good for you… Just… Don't go near that man again, alright…?"

"Aw, but they tasted so gooood… And why can't I go near that guy? He was pretty cool… And he gave me churros! Did I mention the churros! They're _delicious_!" He grinned up at his caretaker. "And he spoke funny… Is that how everybody speaks in Wanker-land? 'Cause it was kinda cool… Can I speak like that?"

"No, Alfred… no you cannot… That man will… He'll hurt you, if he gets the chance. He'll take you away from me, and make sure you don't ever see the light of day again." He glanced down at him, eyes holding a certain stillness to mask the complete fury he held toward the Spaniard. Oh, he was going to give him such a lesson…

Alfred frowned. "Why would he do that? He called me his friend and gave me lots of hugs… He was nice…" Suddenly the boy felt very nervous and clung to Iggy, starting to shake. "Why would he want to hurt me and take me away from you?"

He held his younger brother closer. Mistake number one… "Because he's a bad man full of tricks… But as long as you stay away from him, I'll make sure he can't do anything of the sort…" he sighed silently. He hadn't meant to scare the boy, even if it _would_ ensure there was no interaction between him and the Spaniard…

He buried his face in Iggy's shirt and trembled. "You promise?" He really didn't want to go away from Iggy forever… No Iggy meant no food…

"I promise." He managed a smile, standing and setting his hat on the seat he'd taken. "Why don't we get you ready for bed…?" It was late, after all…

"Ew… Bed…" Alfred made a face, quickly regaining his childish attitude. "Why do I have to go to bed? Bed is icky."

"So you can have more energy to play tomorrow." He carried him over to the smaller bed he had set up for the child, setting him down and moving to get the boy's night clothes for him.

Alfred debated sneaking off- well, trying to sneak off- but decided against it. He'd need Iggy in a good mood. He wanted to hear all about his big brother's life at sea. It sounded like a heck of a lot more fun than life here in this snooty palace. So, he sat still and allowed himself to be readied for bed.

The older man got Alfred dressed and tucked him under the sheets. "Good night, Alfred…"

"Good night, Iggy…" He snuggled into the sheets around him. "…Hey… Um… Can you not leave me alone tonight? I'm scared the mean man might break into my room and hurt me now…"

He blinked, stopping at the door and glancing back. It was his fault, after all, that the boy was scared… "…Alright…" he closed the door quietly and trailed back into the room, sitting down beside the chibi.

He smiled at him. "Thanks… I wouldn't have asked… Just…" He fidgeted. "Wull…"

He frowned slightly. "Is something wrong?"

"Just… The guy's still here… So yeah… Now I'm terrified." He fidgeted again.

His eyes narrowed. "He's… still here…?"

Alfred nodded, shifting in bed to rest his head in Arthur's lap. "Yeah. Said something about waiting for you to finish some business or something… I only had the churros, like, yesterday…" He shrugged.

Arthur felt his back going rigid, hairs on his neck standing up as he reached to stroke Alfred's hair. That demon was still in his home…?

The boy closed his eyes, blissfully unaware of his big brother's freak out. "'night, Iggy…"

"Good night Alfred…" he managed, trying not to clench his teeth too tightly. He was going to murder Antonio…

Alfred fell asleep quietly. Staying asleep was another matter. He snored like a buffalo.

After a while, Arthur managed to doze off, holding his younger brother close to his chest. He'd quickly forgotten the last time he'd actually slept in a bed…


	2. Chapter 2

**Just thought I'd add that the humans and France in this are all written by Celticknot14**

The next morning the king wanted to speak to Arthur about his mission abroad. Alfred begged and pleaded to be let in to the meeting hall. He really wanted to know what had happened.

The elder nation sighed quietly. "No, America… This is just time for the grownups right now, alright…?"

"Aw… But I'm big and strong like a grownup! You said so yourself!" He folded his arms, pouting.

"Yes, I did… say that, didn't I…?" he pinched the bridge of his nose. "But this isn't about strength, Alfred…"

He looked down, silently plotting revenge for not being allowed in. Maybe he could go talk to that one man Iggy didn't like… Maybe that guy knew how to get back at Iggy for being mean…

He patted the smaller figure's back gently. "I shouldn't be long…"

Al shook his head. "No, go ahead and take your time… I got stuff to do… Like mud pies." He suddenly cracked a grin at his brother. "Yeah, I gotta make mudpies."

"Just… try not to get your clothes too dirty, alright…?" he slipped inside the other room.

As soon as the door closed behind Arthur, Alfred ran off to find the man with the funny voice.

The king and the court inside studied Arthur as he entered, one familiar looking blond man sitting beside the king and smirking.

His thick eyebrows knit together, scowling. "What's he doing here…? I thought this was just between us, not… not _that_…!"

The king frowned. "This is one of your fellow kind, is he not? What's the problem?"

The blond man merely chuckled and blew a kiss to England. "It's good to see you too, mon cheri Angleterre."

He glared. "Just because he's a nation does _not_ mean we get along or ever will…! What do you want?"

The king frowned. "Sir Kirkland I must ask you to hold your tongue. We're in court now, not out on the seas. Be polite to those you meet, even if you don't like them."

France chuckled. "Do not worry yourself, Monsuier Roi; he's been acting like this to me for centuries. It is nothing I can't stand." He winked at the king, smirking.

The nation grumbled quietly, sitting down heavily. "What is all this, then? I thought I was just dropping off my payment and leaving."

"Oh non non non~" Francis chided. "Angleterre, we have business to discuss involving the prospect of trading within our new colonies. I'm here on behalf of my king who really didn't want to come-" He glanced at the king of England. "Er… No offense intended…"

The king snorted. "The point is, Sir Kirkland, that we've got business to discuss as well. Now is the best time."

He sighed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. "…Alright…"

The king nodded and France stood up, smoothing out his suit as he did. "Now to just find the colonies… They need to be involved in this."

He blinked. Great… But he'd just sent Alfred off… "Are you certain…?"

"Oui monsuier. They have to know what's going on in their land."

He got up reluctantly, moving for the door. "Alright… fine…"

"Merci beaucoup." Francis smiled, leaving through a side door to find his petit Matieu.

Arthur trailed out of the building to look for his underling, calling out for him on occasion.

Alfred was nowhere to be found at all, having gone mysteriously missing. Matthew was also gone.

He frowned, starting to grow worried and ask around. It wasn't like Alfred to hide very well, even if he was trying to play…

A few of the servants told Arthur they'd seen him hanging around with the castle's Spanish guest.

He went stiff, demanding to know where they were.

None of the servants could give him an answer.

Arthur ran through the buildings, howling for the Spaniard furiously.

France seemed to be having similar issues. He stalked towards Arthur, demanding in furious and speedy French for him to give back Matthew.

"I don't have any bloody time to decipher your idiotic language!" He spat, puffing up angrily. "Now get out of my way!"

"Matthew is gone!" He snarled in Hetalian. "Where did you take him! What have you done to my baby!"

"I haven't even seen your colony in person yet! How could I possibly know where-" He froze for a moment, cursing quietly.

France frowned. "What's that worried look on your normally vacant face?"

"… I was told that… That Alfred had been seen with Spain…" he covered his face with one hand, trying to calm himself. There was a rather good chance the Spaniard had taken France's colonies away as well…

"Sacre Bleau! Are you serious right now!" He gasped in horror. "Normally Spain's a pretty wonderful person but if he's taken Matieu I swear I will have his favorite parts removed!"

"Unfortunately, yes…" his fingers moved to the bridge of his nose. "And I haven't been able to find him around the place anywhere…"

France growled. "Why the hell would you let Spain near your colony! You know he's been after that little boy as long as you've had him!"

"I told him to stay away from him! I made it very clear what the consequences would be!"

"Why was Spain _in your castle _to begin with!" He snapped.

"I DON'T KNOW!" he howled

France slapped him across the face. "Fighting each other won't get our colonies back! We have to go after them!"

He hissed angrily, holding the spot where he'd been hit. He didn't argue though; getting his brother back was top priority.

"Now, Spain obviously sailed here. Let's go find his boat!" He turned on his heel.

He hurried toward the docks, face completely red with anger. Oh the things he'd do to Spain once he got a hold of him…

The sailors still in port were bustling about their normal business, nothing looking out of the normal.

He demanded to know if any Spanish ships had left recently.

He was informed yes, a Spanish ship had just left the harbor.

"Well, what direction?" he spat, nearly fuming out the ears by that point.

"Out to sea."

He glared, clearly growing impatient. "REALLY? I WOLDN'T HAVE GUESSED THAT MYSELF! WHAT _DIRECTION_ DID HE HEAD?"

The old sailor gestured around at the land. "Out."

"NORTH, EAST, SOUTH, OR WEST YOU DOLT? IT'S NOT THAT HARD!"

"You are very rude, sir. I shall not answer your questions." The man folded his arms.

He looked around frantically, trying to find any of his crew or the Spanish ship that had been seen. They weren't supposed to head off for another few months, though…!

His first mate was at the docks, flirting with a couple girls.

He snarled, stalking over to him.

The man looked over, paled, and snapped at the girls to flee for their lives. They ran away in a hurry when they saw the angry captain approaching.

"Where's the rest of the crew?" he hissed, "There's been a change of plans."

"They've probably taken to the pubs, sir." He frowned. "Change of plans? But aren't you supposed to be at the palace today?"

"I was, until something came up. We leave for Spain today." He turned and started off to find the others, not bothering to wait for further protest.

The man stared after him. Spain? But Captain Kirkland hated that place… Well, there must've been a good reason for him wanting to go there, then. He hurried off to help look for the crew.

After he'd gotten a sufficient amount of men back for sailing, the Brit made his way back to the ship to have it prepped, making sure they had plenty of ammunition and armaments.

France was on deck at the moment, ordering the first mate and who he'd found around the deck. All in all, the ship was ready to set sail by sundown.

Arthur scowled, moving over to France. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm helping ready your ship." He snorted, folding his arms. "Why?"

"Because- E- I-…" He snarled, letting it drop and stalking off. He did _n_otwant to be at sea with that wanker… Not for a week, nor a day or an hour or a minute. But if it meant getting his Alfred back quicker…

France smiled triumphantly and resumed ordering the men around.

England did what he could to get them started before heading to his cabin to tidy it in a rage. He hated keeping all these emotions bottled up… especially when they were so negative, on top of being directed towards Francis. Normally he would have been happy to scream at the Frenchman…

The first mate gave him a courtesy call to tell him when they'd left the harbor. He asked for a direction or a heading or something to tell them where to go.

He paused for a moment, cursing himself quietly. "…Did you happen to see the Spanish ship that left the harbor a few hours earlier in the day…?"

"Yeah I did," He nodded to emphasize his point. "Guy with a red coat and brown ponytail at the helm. Looked really happy about something. Why?"

"Follow that ship." His eyes glinted slightly, half with fury and the other not quite recognizable "That's our target. I want that man dead and that ship raided." He stopped again, glancing back. "There should be two smaller children. As soon as we can get them onto this ship, do what you will with the other. I simply never want to see that vessel or any of its crew afloat ever again."

The first mate paled, never having seen his captain like this before. "A-Aye, sir. Um… If I may, what did the man do to earn this sort of ire from you?"

"It's nothing that requires publication." He growled. "Just do as I say." he sat down on his cot, fastening an eye patch over his left eye. He really didn't want to be going through this again so early…

The man hurried out, calling out orders to follow the course he'd seen the Spanish ship take.

The Brit sighed quietly, moving to his desk to start laying out their general plans and plotting up ways he'd deal with Spain. He couldn't help a certain frustrated fog that spread through his chest. Dang it, Alfred…

France was out on deck, helping the sailors as best he could. He'd never been one for the pirate aspect of sailing, much preferring to cruise around the Mediterranean near his home. That is, if he was on a boat at all.


	3. Chapter 3

**In this chapter Flourescent Bloodstains takes cotrol of little Canada. I have everybody else. ...Man I need to cut back on charries...**

Matthew hesitantly reached for the doorknob, having to stretch quite a ways only to find he was simply too short to turn it. He tried nudging a chair over to the door, though he quickly became frightened he would get in trouble for doing so and moving it back. He whimpered quietly, staring at the obstacle before him hopelessly. Where was big brother…?

Alfred watched his twin struggle for a moment before getting off the bed and moving over to him. "Hey dude. Want some help?" He grinned.

He blinked, glancing over quickly in surprise. It wasn't often his twin actually paid any mind to him… "I-I…" he gave a small nod, fidgeting. "Yeah…"

Alfred picked his brother up and put him on his shoulders, laughing. "There ya go, bra. Can you reach now? And dude you don't weigh a thing!"

He let out a tiny squeak, having not expected to be hoisted up so easily. All the same he did his best to collect himself, giving a small nod and reaching to open the door.

The doorknob opened from the other side right as the chibi put his hand on it.

He yelped and fell forwards unsteadily.

Alfred blinked, having been daydreaming. Matthew was caught by strong arms covered in a red jacket. "Ah, close call mi amigo… What's your rush?"

The chibi blinked up at the larger figure, face going white. That… was not France… "I-I…"

Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo smiled down at the boy. "Hola. You're Matieu, si? Francis told me about you. »

«Uh… I… mmh-… Y-yeah…" he tried his hardest to stop himself from fidgeting, trembling all the same. "Where's F-Francis…?"

"He had to go to an emergency meeting back at Versailles and told me to watch over you while he was gone." He smiled at him. "I'm Antonie. Has your big brother ever mentioned me before? We hang out together a lot."

He blinked, managing to settle down somewhat. "Mhm… But…"

"I promise I'll take you back to see him when he's done with his meeting, okay?" Meanwhile, Alfred had gotten bored and tried to wander out past Antonio only to find his path blocked by the man's legs. He retreated to the bed, pouting.

"Kay…" he hesitantly let himself relax in the Spaniard's arms, leaning his head against his chest. If he was big brother's friend, then there wasn't much that could go wrong… right…?

He smiled to himself, holding the colony closer. Everything was going as planned… By double crossing Francis he'd been able to obtain this colony as well. Now the only thing left on his list of countries to claim was Northern Italy…

The chibi glanced over at his brother from where he was held, looking somewhat drowsy with the newfound comfort of reassurance. Big brother's meetings usually didn't last very long… he'd be back home soon enough…

Alfred was half pouting. "Can I have some more of those chooro things?" Antonio winced as his beautiful language was butchered by the American. "Ah, sure. But they're 'churros' not 'chooros'." "That's what I said, dude." Alfred frowned slightly. "Chooros."

Matthew lifted his head from Antonio's chest. What were they talking about…?

"Dios, you're worse than Romano…" He laughed softly. "Let's go get you some of those. Matthew, would you like a churro?" Huh. Speaking of Romano… Where was that kid? Oh poop…

"Um… Wh… What's a 'chur-oor-oh'…?" or however the flib you said it. He was inclined to believe Antonio's way of saying it was better, because Alfred really wasn't very smart, but all the same…

"'churro'," He corrected instinctively. "It's a doughy pastry that's been deep fried and coated in cinnamon sugar. They're really quite good."

He perked slightly. "Sure…"

Antonio set him down. "then let's all head to the galley to get some, okay~?"

He smiled, nodding and glancing back to wait for Alfred.

Alfred scrambled off the bed and ran towards them. "Let's go!"

He trailed after the eldest of them, unable to help stare around the ship as he went. The only time he'd ever been on a ship previous was when Francis had brought him home… Granted, he hadn't really seen much of the ship then, as he'd been too terrified to come out from his corner, but still…

Antonio led them down a ladder and through a maze of passages before arriving in a small cooking area. "The galley~! Now to make those churros for-" "You god damned bastard get your ass over here and help me, fucking asshole!" a boy cried from the corner. He seemed to be wrestling with something…

Matthew let out a small squeak, jumping. There were other boys his size on the ship…? Well, there was Alfred, but he didn't really count…

"Romano!?" Antonio hurried to help him. The boy was nearly suffocated by a large bag of red fruit that he'd been trying to pull out and somehow become lodged behind it. Spain pulled the bag away and lifted the red haired child into his arms, making sure he was okay hurriedly. Alfred glanced at Matthew confusedly. "Who's that?"

"I dunno…" he inched closer, trying to get a better look. He'd never seen this nation before…

The boy clung to Spain, trembling and grumbling to himself. He totally ignored the lecture Antonio was giving him about heavy and large objects in favor of staring at the other two nations. "…Oi, jackass. Who're these people?" Spain paused, looking back at them. "Ah. Romano, this is Alfred and Matthew. Matthew, Alfred, this is Romano."

The northern colony managed a small smile, waving slightly. "Hello…"

"Screw you." He snorted in return. Antonio slapped him on the back of his head. "Be nice Romano. These two are staying with us while their caretakers are busy." Alfred grinned and waved eagerly.

Matthew fidgeted, playing with his own hands. He wasn't certain if he'd done something to make the boy angry or if that was just how the mystery country acted…

Romano hissed and started cussing Spain out in Italian for hitting him. Antonio set him down with a sigh and pulled one of the red fruits from the bag that had nearly crushed his charge. The boy fell silent, staring at it. When Antonio gave it to him he took it and ran away with it. The man smiled at the other two. "Right… Sorry about him. He's got a very bad mouth."

"It's okay…" the boy smiled weakly. "Who was he…?"

"That was Romano Lovino Vargas. The Southern half of Italia. He's my colony just like you are France's and Alfred is England's." Spain smiled.

He glanced at the door the other colony had left through. He hadn't ever heard of an Italia before…

"Right… So shall we make some churros now?"

"YES." Alfred screeched.

Spain winced. "Dios…!"

Matt blinked over at his brother. "Calm down…"

"I am calm. I just really want those chooros." This time he wasn't corrected. Apparently Antonio had just given up trying to fix it. The adult nation began gathering and preparing the treats.

The northern colony sat down, watching quietly.

Alfred laughed, bouncing on the deck.


	4. Chapter 4

Eventually Matthew went wandering around the ship, unable to sleep and not really wanting to stick around to have Alfred's continuous snoring grating on his ears.

There were only a few men out on deck at the time. One steering, one smoking, and a small boy sitting out on the bow and… Crying?

He blinked, frowning somewhat and inching closer.

Romano didn't look over, hugging himself.

He watched for a few moments. This was the boy that had been stuck under that bag earlier… "… Um… Hey…" His voice, as usual, was much too soft; normally he wouldn't have been heard, but seeing as things tended to quiet down at night, there was a slightly larger possibility this would be possible.

The boy blinked and wiped his face on his sleeve. Maybe he could pretend that he hadn't heard him…

The colony waited for a rather long time, unnaturally patient with the way he was accustomed to being dealt with. It was a bad habit for him, waiting and waiting in hopes someone had actually noticed him. In this case however, it seemed that no one had. "Are… are you okay…?" It was worth at least another try, right…?

He winced. "What do you care?"

"Well… I…" He bit his lip. Why shouldn't he care…? Granted, he didn't know the other nation very well, but that was no grounds to be insensitive… "It's just… you're crying…"

"Yeah because of you, you damn bastard!" He snapped angrily, wiping at his face with a bit more vigor. "Now the damn jackass is going to get rid of me because he's got something better!"

The younger colony jumped, shrinking back slightly at the unexpected anger that was sent his way. "I-I… I didn't mean… I mean… He's j-just watching us, is all…" he fidgeted, staring at the other with slightly wide eyes. "Just until big b-brother can come back from his meetings…"

Romano snorted, shaking his head. "He's never going to give you back…"

He froze up, going slightly pale. "But… n-no… he said…"

"He lied, dumbass." Romano hissed.

The smaller northern colony took on a slightly panicked look, glancing around as though he'd find his older brother or some proof that this was a fluke. "But…"

"Now that he's got options about which colonies he has he's going to toss out the rotten one. Me. I'm just gonna end up dead somewhere, I just know it." He looked away, trying not to let the fear show in his eyes.

Matthew sat down, trying to swallow the knot forming in his throat. But Antonie wouldn't lie… He was a friend… Francis was always going on about how much fun they had together… "N-no… maybe… maybe you just heard something wrong… 'c-cause…"

"I'm not wrong. He's always been talking about all the other little nations and how cute they are. He never talks about me. It's always you or Alfred or Fratello or… He's not going to let you go back…"

He fidgeted, feeling somewhat light-headed. "M-maybe… maybe he doesn't talk about you ar-round you 'c-cause… 'cause…"

"He never does. Not to anyone. And nothing good if he ever says anything." He looked away, getting up.

Matthew glanced up at him, trying to hide the terror behind his eyes. It really didn't work the best, though…

Romano stalked off to the cabin they were all sleeping in.


	5. Chapter 5

Over the next few weeks, Matthew started retreating to corners and hiding places to get away from Antonio and the rest of the crew, truly terrified of what he'd been told by Romano. He wouldn't come out to eat, he wasn't sleeping enough, and most often he refused contact when it was attempted towards him.

Antonio tried to figure out why, interrogating both Alfred and Romano. When Romano told him what he'd done (With many tears and the like) he was grounded and locked in his own cabin. Spain tried to tell Matthew that Romano was nuts and had been lying to him when he'd said that. He pleaded with him to eat and sleep and talk. Romano was a liar, he said. Just a jealous, suspicious liar.

Alfred really didn't pay any attention to the three of them; much too absorbed in being a sailor and being happy.

The colony did what he could to calm himself. He'd been right… The Italia he'd spoken with was just paranoid… He tried to make his way to Romano's cabin to speak with him.

Romano's cabin was the brig. It didn't look like a prison at the moment, however. It was full of warm fluffy blankets and cheerful looking stuff, with a few of Romano's favorite fruits in the corner. They were safely secured with a blanket so they didn't roll everywhere with the ship. Romano himself was curled up on one of the bunks, sleeping.

Matthew decided to leave him alone for the time being. It didn't seem very polite to wake the other colony up…

Just as he was turning away Lovino woke up, grumbling.

He blinked, pausing and glancing back.

He spotted Matt and folded his arms. "What the hell do you want?"

He bit his lip. "I… I just… I talked with Antonie… And… w-wull…"

Lovino got off the cot. "Really? What did he tell you?"

"He… He s-said that… that he wasn't gonna keep us…"

"He lied." Lovino snorted. "He told you that so you'd trust him and like him.

"But… he… he said you were lying…" He frowned confusedly.

"Biig shocker." He rolled his eyes. "He lied about me lying."

The smaller boy sat down, clearly a tad more than confused at that point. "Why…?"

"So you would trust him and listen to him when he told you all his lies."

"But… how do I know you're not lying…?" he cocked his head slightly.

"How do you know Spain isn't?"

"I…" he bit his lip. "I… don't, really…" he inched closer. "But…"

"But he's more charismatic than I am so he must be telling the truth?"

"Wull… no… just… It seems a bit silly… that he'd take me away from Francis…"

"Why's it silly? You're just land waiting to be taken and ruled. It doesn't matter who rules as long as someone bigger and stronger than you are is in control." He folded his arms. "You've never been passed around like I have. You've never had to change."

His shoulders hunched. This nation was clearly a bit older than him, even if he didn't look like it very much… "I… I'm sorry… But… Big brother will come get me… He's good at finding me…"

"Great. A fucking pirate battle. Just fan-tucking-fastic." He growled. "Hope you guys can swim."

He went white. "They… they don't really have to fight…! Big brother and Antonie get along just fine…!"

"Yeah, but since Antonio's kidnapped you I'd imagine relations have gone sour."

The smaller colony glanced down, feeling his stomach knot up. This couldn't really be happening, right…? He was still asleep somewhere…? "But… th… they're not gonna fight… they can't…"

"Yeah they can. They're two world superpowers and they can pretty much do whatever the fuck they please."

He bit back a whimper, going quiet. But… if Francis went to war… what if something happened to him? Or what if big brother made him fight…?

Romano watched his face, unable to deny that he felt a little bad for scaring the kid like that. But only a little bad.

"Then… then…" he glanced back at the door, feeling uncomfortable flittery feelings in his stomach. "Then I'll take Al and… and we'll run away…" he looked up. "Then you can stay with Antonie and we can get back to big brother…" Hopefully. He wasn't really certain how well he and his twin knew how to sail very well yet…

"I don't want to stay with the jackass any longer. If you're going I'm coming with you. I know how to work most of the stuff on a boat."

He blinked confusedly. "But… you… you were crying… 'cause you were scared he'd leave you…"

"But if I leave him it's a totally different situation. If I leave it's a slap to the face for him. If he leaves it child abuse."

A quiet sigh left the smaller colony and he went quiet. Taking a boat was out of the question, then…

"What's wrong now?"

"Nothing… I'm sorry…"

"Don't be sorry." He snorted.

He started toward the door.

He watched him go.

Matthew crept back up to the upper deck, moving to crawl to his hiding spot.

Alfred wandered around the deck, bored.

He watched him silently, unable to understand his twin. He just… never made any sense…

Alfred decided to go swimming and jumped off the side.

A startled howl left the normally quiet colony's throat, going into a slight panic and rushing to a side boat. It didn't take him too terribly long to figure out how to work the vessel, clinging to the sides tightly as it dropped into the water.

Alfred bobbed up, laughing in the water. There was a commotion on deck.

"Alfred…!" the northern colony squeaked. "Why would you do that…?!" of course, it wasn't truly a shout, though the panic and slight frustration was clear in his tone.

"Because I wanted to go swimming!" He called back, paddling around delightedly. There was another splash as someone else jumped out.

"But we were on a boat…! We can't get back up now; it's still moving…!" the smaller colony was too preoccupied with his sibling to mind the third splash at the moment, rigid enough as it was. the life raft. Antonio held onto the side of the boat and began cussing the both of them out in every language he spoke. What had they been thinking!?

Matthew shrank back, eyes widening. This… was not even close to good…

Alfred just blinked at him; the only thing he took in from the lecture was all the filthy words. He was so gonna tell Iggy how much he'd expanded his vocabulary… Spain made his way into the boat as the larger ship started to swing around to pick them up.

The northern colony pressed into the far corner of the small boat, doing what he could to apologize to the Spaniard. He didn't really understand what he was saying… but he clearly wasn't happy, and what he could pick out he'd only heard from Francis when he was really, really angry or had dropped something on his foot…

Finally Antonio switched into Hetalian. "You two boys are in such trouble I swear… If your brothers hear about this how do you think they'll react!? You could have drowned! Been turned into shark food! Do you know what a shark is!? It's a fish with giant teeth that eats little boys who jump out of ships in the middle of the ocean for breakfast lunch and dinner! But only after it rips you in half and sucks out your innards!" There was nothing wrong with a little intimidation, now was there? Especially if it meant they never did it again.

Matthew's eyes turned into saucers on his face, going more white than he possibly ever had before. He hadn't ever heard of such a horrendous creature… Maybe… Maybe Antonie was making it up to scare him like Francis did some times to keep him from going out too late or getting out of bed… His attempts to apologize ended abruptly after this new threat, only attempting to hold back his terrified tears after this. He'd gotten his captor angry… But even worse was the fact there could be giant fish dragons around wanting to eat them right now…! He wasn't ever going to sea ever again after this… not ever…

Alfred's eyes widened. "Aw cool! Can we catch one and keep it as a pet?! C'mon dude that'd be pretty freaking awesome!" Antonio stared at him. "…Only if you're the bait, mi amigo." The ship reached them and pulled them up with the life boat.

Matthew stared at his twin in complete shock. What…?

Antonio sighed and carried both Matthew and Alfred down into the brig to trade places with Lovino. "It's clear to me that you two can't be trusted to wander free on the decks, so you'll be staying in here until you prove yourselves capable." Lovino blinked at the two and then up at his boss. Huh.

The northern colony opened his mouth to object or defend himself, though to his horror he found nothing would come from his throat. He was left staring at the superpower helplessly, inching to a corner out of habit. Where was big brother…?

Alfred looked around before picking up his twin and putting him on his shoulders. "Chicken fight!" Spain gave him a shocked look and locked the door. Romano stared until Spain carried him out.

Matthew squeaked, losing his balance for a few moments and flopping backward, stretching out his spine in ways he hadn't known were possible. He struggled to sit back upright, trying to figure out what exactly had just happened. He wasn't used to being picked up like that without any warning unless big brother had had a bad day…

Alfred put him back down and wandered over to tap the lock on the door. "Huh…"

He glanced up at his twin, not feeling very comfortable any longer. They were… locked up… just like in a real prison… Fear started creeping through his veins, staring at the locked door in shock. What had even just happened…?

He then made his way over to the bed and pulled a blanket away to dry off with, whistling as he did so.

Matthew watched his sibling from a distance, glancing around to see if he could find somewhere comfortable to hide. The space didn't seem very large after being able to find spaces around the entire ship, though…

Al curled up on the damp blanket after that and decided to take a nap.

After a few moments of indecision and hesitation, the northern colony crept over and lay down beside his brother. It was better than nothing, he supposed, and he hadn't been close to his twin for a long while now…

The stronger boy put an arm around his twin and pulled him closer.

He blinked in surprise, taking some time to relax before drifting off. It was so much easier for him when he had someone there to keep the monsters away…

Alfred didn't snore so badly this time.


	6. Chapter 6

Britain paced in his room impatiently, irritated with the lack of progress they were making. Why wasn't Antonio's head mounted on his mantle piece yet, dang it…?! This was taking too long…!

France was up in the crow's nest, scanning the horizon with a keen eye and a telescope. He was going to make the Spaniard pay for skipping out on their deal like that. They'd agreed to help each other capture America and then share custody of him. Antonio running off with Matthew hadn't been part of the plan at all.

Eventually he stalked out of his room to get a progress report from the crew, wanting to see if there'd been any signs of the ship or land yet.

There had been several sightings of a ship, constantly bobbing in and out of sight along the water. One of the crew mates that had spotted it said it was flying a merchant's flag while another claimed it to have the markings of a Spanish ship.

He growled, clearly in no mood to be deciphering differing stories. Instead he stalked to a secluded spot near his cabin and watched out at the water. The never ending, always infuriating sea that swallowed anything and everything. It kept hiding even a Spanish ship, for heaven's sake…!

At the edge of one's vision there was a flash of white. From up the crow's nest there was hurried French and the snapping of a telescope. "I see Spain! He's on the deck!"

His eyes narrowed, standing quickly and stalking over to see for himself.

Francis handed him over the telescope and gave him a general direction to look at.

He set the telescope back down, barking at all those who weren't running anything important on the ship to arm themselves. He planned to make this quick and easy…

Spain had been standing on the bow, holding a child in his arms and smiling. He was completely unaware of the mierda de tormenta brewing behind his ship. France readied his sword and gun for battle while the crew scrambled around the deck.

Arthur felt his blood boiling at the sight of pleasure on the Spaniard's face. Oooohhhhh he was gonna get it… He'd make sure he suffered long and hard the entire way home. And once they got to London it was only a short trip to the tower, where he'd have more tools at his disposal… But of course, only after he'd found a place for Alfred to hang back and not see a thing.

"You are clearly enjoying something, Angleterre." France mused. "I must say it gives me chills down to my Sacre Coeur. Fantasizing about Antoine, non?"

"Oh shut up…" he snapped, glancing away from the Frenchman. "Just because you're on the boat with me doesn't mean we need to communicate. As soon as we get the children back, I don't want to see your face again, got it?"

"I'm afraid that won't happen. You'll have to see my face again some time." He shrugged, reaching up a hand to smooth the feather in his blue hat. "After all, we still have to go back to port. And discuss that little arranged marriage."

"WHAT?!" he spun around "We talked about trading between our colonies! Never marriage!"

"When you told me you loved me as I made you writhe in pleasure underneath me and you begged for my hand in marriage." He smiled at him. "I honestly must say I had no idea you were such a screamer." He loved to mess with England, especially when he'd recently had wet dreams about him. He just wanted to see the face that the man would make.

"THERE WAS NEVER SUCH A TIME!" He screeched, growing red in the face with complete rage. "I DON'T CARE HOW BLOODY DRUNK I EVER GOT!" He put a hand to the hilt of his sword. Oh if it weren't for that poor child waiting for Francis on that ship he'd decapitate the Frenchman on the spot…

"Oh mon cher you're blushing~ So cute~! It makes me want to violate you all over again~!" Okay. Time to run. He scurried across the deck and down into the maze of passages below.

The Brit growled angrily, spinning a small circle in his rage. Normally he'd pace, but he didn't want to move… He wanted to be the very first on that ship and the very first to beat Spain into a pulp…

The ship slowly grew closer to the Spanish vessel until the figures could be seen individually. Antonio was still up on deck, though he looked a bit more worried now. Who was that gnashing their teeth and spinning in circles on the deck? It looked like a bad omen…

Eventually he couldn't take it any longer and sent a few boats ahead to start off the trouble. Of course he didn't go in himself; he'd let them take out a few crew members before this happened. Sometimes you didn't always get what you want, and it seemed as though his original plan of being the first on wouldn't be the smartest. He needed to conserve energy…

The Spanish ship opened fire on the little boats, loosing their cannons on both the boats and the ship back in the distance. The child that had been on deck with Spain fled below and Antonio himself drew his sword.

England hissed quietly, barking orders for their own canons to go to use. He wasn't getting away with his America so easily again…

The large guns started firing, their payload exploding near enough to the ship to make it shake and sway. Antonio ordered a retreat. This wasn't right… This wouldn't end well…

Arthur eventually started his journey towards the retreating vessel, furious. They were not getting away from him so easily…

The ship fired more cannons back at the other.

He started scaling the side of the ship from his small boat, eyes glinting angrily. It was no matter, however. If worse came to worse he'd simply have Spain's crew killed and take over the bulky galleon until they got home…

One of the sailors slashed at the ropes England was using to scale up. He then threw something down at the blond, cussing in Spanish.

The Brit howled angrily, moving to dig his sword into the side of the ship. He'd climb up the hard way, if he had to…!

The sailor couldn't do anything to stop him climbing up with his sword. Spain hurried to meet England as the man climbed over the side, sword drawn.

He pasted a sneer onto his face, plucking his own blade from the wood of the ship and pointing it at the Spaniard with a heavy motion. It wasn't exactly easy, climbing up a wet ship side like that… "Oh the things we have ahead of us…"

"Hola mi amigo~!" Spain grinned at him much in the same manner as Alfred had. "Long time no see, eh? Tell me, how have things been going with you? How about that marriage to Francis? Have you settled the details on that?"

He hissed angrily "There is no marriage that will be going on between me and that smelly tosser. Ever. And, as for the way things have been going, I dragged myself out here ahead of schedule to get my Alfred back. Now, if we can settle this like civil men, I might just decide to spare your life. But if I have to wrestle him away from you…"

"Wrestle who away? I'm not sure who you're talking about? Wait; if you're after Lovino I can give you plenty of reasons why you don't want him and why you should leave him with me." He beamed at him. "Otherwise I really have no idea who you're talking about~"

"We both know that's a lie, Antonio…" he stalked closer carefully, eyes glinting. "And I'm not really in the mood for games…"

He raised his sword to a defensive position. "Ah, but you know how fond of games I am, England~ They're always such fun to play~!"

"Not now, Spain!" He snapped, hair rising on the back of his neck. "Hand him over or I'll take down this floating mountain you call a ship!"

"But I love my Galleon~! I named it after you, even~!" His eyes widened innocently. "It's called 'Le Maldito hijo de puta de Inglaterra'!"

His eyes narrowed. That… was just a bit more than creepy. (It didn't help that he didn't speak a word of Spanish…) "You don't really think that will keep me from sinking it, do you…?

"Well actually I let Lovino name it for me~" He rambled on, not seeming to care about England's interruption. "I'm glad he's finally learning some Spanish, you know? It makes me feel proud; like I'm not a failure at raising him." He smiled. "Don't you agree? Helping your baby learn your native language is a wonderful thing~"

"SHUT UP AND SHOW ME WHERE ALFRED IS!" the Brit was finally sent over the edge. Yes, he knew very well how that felt, and he wanted. It. Back!

Antonio blinked in surprise. "You know that's not a very good attitude… You won't get far in this changing world with one like that. Nobody will like you so nobody will trade so you'll sink into an economic collapse and die alone young~" He beamed at him as though it all made perfect sense and that England would suddenly have a change of heart and be nice and let him keep the other two nations.

He lashed at the Spaniard, letting out a howl of fury. This was too much for him… It was one thing if the world hated him, but it was something completely different if Spain hated him.

The man raised his blade to block his body, having accomplished what he'd set out to do to the nation.

He quickly brought the weapon back and stabbed again.

Spain parried again, quickly back stepping as a cannonball lodged itself in the side of his ship.

England yelped, trying to maintain his balance at the impact. Growing frustrated, the man whacked at the other nation multiple times, growing careless in his fury.

The brunet took advantage of his carelessness and took a few swings of his own, doing his best to dodge the swings.

The nation hissed as his side was sliced, bringing him back to his senses and taking a few steps backwards.

Antonio beamed at him. "Isn't it painful to be careless?"

Arthur hissed, whipping his blade towards Antonio furiously. If only he could get a chance to pin this guy so he could find Alfred before the ship went down…

He yelped, taking a step backwards but still being grazed in the chest.

The nation started for the main head of the ship. He could deal with the Spaniard later if he had the chance… Alfred was still his main concern…

Something attacked his leg. Antonio growled angrily and ran towards England.

The Brit yowled, toppling over as his leg was gripped.

"Iggy dude! You're back! Dude I totally missed you!" There was another explosion that knocked many to the ground.

He stiffened once he realized he hadn't actually been attacked, reaching to grab his younger sibling. "Alfred…!"

Al hugged him. Spain grabbed the boy by the back of his clothing and did his best to lift him into the air. However, he pulled not only the chibi but also Arthur into the air. The little boy held on to his caretaker with such strength Antonio couldn't get him off.

Arthur snarled, clinging to his underling with one arm and reaching to point his gun at Spain with the other. "BACK OFF!"

Spain didn't notice the gun. "Why!? You weren't able to keep a hold of him! Why should I release him back to an unfit caretaker!?"

"That was not me being careless!" he yowled, firing a warning shot out to the open sea in front of them. "I didn't want him bored out of his mind with stupid payments and formalities!"

He jumped. "I don't care! You still didn't do your job as a mentor now did you!?"

He aimed the next shot towards the other nation, though decided against it with Alfred so close between them. Instead he tried his hardest to pull the colony closer to himself.

Spain let him go reluctantly. He wasn't as much of a fool as most people thought. He knew when his luck had run out. He let out an angry growl.

Britain pulled Alfred close to his chest, glaring at the Spaniard warily as he started backing to the edge where a boat would be waiting for the chibi.

Spain's hand slowly made its way to the gun at his hip.

He turned away for a moment to help Alfred to the crew member waiting in the water below for them, trying to hurry with it.

He pulled the weapon and fired a shot.

The Brit froze up and dropped Alfred abruptly, eyes narrowing in shock.

Alfred dropped into the water with a scream and a splash. He'd completely missed the boat waiting to catch him. Antonio ran over to England.

The crew member who'd been prepared to catch the boy rowed over to pick him up, moving to hoist him from the water. Arthur tried to stand up straight, jittery and fog-headed with shock and an adrenaline spike that had sent his body into a survival attempt.

Alfred started wailing, unsure how to react to the gunshot. And why had Iggy dropped him like a sack of potatoes!? What had happened!? Was he hurt!? Spain growled at England, keeping his gun ready for another shot. Double barrels were the best thing to happen to guns ever…

The sailor who'd snatched Alfred tried to quiet him while he paddled for the English ship, though it wasn't very easy when both his arms were busy. The captain of the opposing vessel turned around, eyes stormy. He took up his sword with an unsteady hand, the other busy gingerly nursing a newly opened wound on his chest. It was clear even if it hadn't been a fluke, the man wouldn't be able to wield the weapon correctly…

He tried to get out and swim back to the boat, wailing for his caretaker.

Spain growled once more. "Drop it. Or the next one blows out whatever brains you have left." Maybe his luck hadn't been gone, after all.

The man hissed, trying to snatch America. "Don' kid…!"

Britain glared at Antonio for several moments before letting his sword fall to the ground beside him. He still had a colony to take care of… he couldn't be as reckless or cocky as he had been before…

Alfred wriggled out of his grip and fell into the freezing Atlantic water, panic clear on his face. "IGGY!"

Antonio smiled. "Gracias." He leaned in and pulled the sword away from his enemy.

Arthur began inching back towards the edge of the ship, keeping a wary gaze locked on his adversary the entire time.

There was another explosion; this time behind Spain. It knocked him forward onto his knees and he dropped both the gun and Britain's sword.

The Brit contemplated taking his weapons back, though when he measured his circumstances he decided against it. If he was wounded and Alfred was having a freak out- which he could hear over the fighting and the explosions- then there wasn't much sense in staying and trying to fight. He propped himself over the edge and let himself drop to the waters below, hoping not to land on any boats or crewmen.

The drop below was a clear spot of water, nothing in his way.

Alfred was still panicking in the water and trying to climb up the side of the ship.

Antonio forced himself to his feet to look over the edge.

England resurfaced after a moment, breath shaking and unsteady. Why did he feel so heavy so quickly…? The cold water helped somewhat with the throbbing pain that was starting to seep through, but… was this ocean made of jam…?! He started toward his colony stiffly, vision having become blurred.

Alfred swam over to his brother and whimpered. Why was the water red around him?

He reached over to take Alfred, convinced he'd be able to carry the smaller settlement to one of the nearby boats. "Y-you're alright… C'mon…"

"Iggy you're hurt… Let me carry you…" He reversed their positions without waiting for consent, beginning to paddle to a boat.

The older of the two took in a small gasp, eyes narrowing. He hadn't been carried in a long time… And even then, it'd been by someone larger than himself… He tried to keep himself at an independent position at which he could at least swim for himself, not wanting to put a stress on the smaller one.

Alfred wouldn't let him, insistently tugging/carrying him to the rowboat and clambering in.

He pulled himself inside, struggling to sit up and focus. The water had kept much of a stain from forming around him, but now that he was out of the water a darker spot began spreading over the right side of his coat.

The child let out a wail at the sight of the blood. One of the crew on the boat sacrificed his shirt to make bandages for his captain.

He took it reluctantly after a moment and pressed the waded up cloth to his injured area gingerly. He knew he should have been pressing harder, but it always made things a bit more difficult to manage when he did so… He moved to pull Alfred closer with his free arm, eyes slightly dull. "Hey…"

"Iggy you're bleeding!" He whimpered, hiding in his shirt. "Stop it! Stop bleeding! Y-You have to!"

He rubbed the smaller boy's back lightly, managing a small smile despite the ugly mess they were in. At least he'd gotten what he came for… "'S alright…"

"Nooo! You're gonna attract the sharks and they'll eat you! Stop bleeding!" He pressed his hand over Iggy's to press the cloth more firmly to his chest.

The Englishman couldn't help a small wheeze of pain, closing his eyes momentarily to stop himself from crying out. So that's what this was all about…

Alfred hid in his lap as they reached the English ship.

England stood, wobbling slightly as though he'd had too much to drink. He moved to get a grip on the netting they'd dropped to climb, though the urge to rest was growing a bit too much to ignore…

Alfred scrambled up the ladder in a panic. No sharks no sharks no sharks…!

He sighed quietly, making his way slowly up the rope himself. Again the problem struck him that he felt like he was exerting much more energy than was needed, though… It took him several tries and quite a while to actually make it up the ladder, glancing around the ship in hopes it hadn't taken too much damage.

There had been a few gunshots to the ship but it was mostly fine. A loblolly doctor came running to him to help with his wounds.

He tried to wave him off, having convinced himself he'd be fine. Just a flesh wound… just a flesh wound…

The doctor ignored his captain and pulled him down to the medical area to treat him.

He slurred angrily at the man until he nearly blacked out, falling silent afterwards.

The man bandaged him and took care of his injuries.

The Brit passed out halfway through his treatment despite his wanting to appear healthy to his colony.

America began panicking.

He woke about half an hour later, unsure quite where he was.

Alfred was watching him from beside the bed in the captain's quarters. He looked like he'd been crying.

He let out a small sigh of relief, quickly regretting doing so. All the same he reached for the smaller nation, moving to pull him up onto the bed beside him. "Hey…"

He clambered up, pressing close to his arm. "Iggy I was so worried…! Don't do that again!"

Arthur chuckled internally, though he stopped himself from doing so physically. Not worth it… He put an arm around the smaller figure, holding him close. "'ve come home wi'… with worse…"

"Just because ya have doesn't mean ya will again." He muttered mulishly. "Ya could still die from less…"

He smiled, eyes softening. It did his heart good to know the kid still cared… He rubbed Alfred's back, hand shaking slightly. "Th' barb'r did a f-… fine job, 'ough…" he tried to sit up, wheezing and falling back over. Alright… not the best idea either…

"Dude stop getting hurt…!" He frowned at him. "The doctor told me not to let you do anything strenuous! …Hey Iggy, what does strenuous mean?"

A pained little laugh managed to weasel its way out of the Englishman's throat that time. "Like… hard wo-ork…" he messed with Alfred's hair lightly "But he d'sn't know much… now does he-e…?"

"Nah, I think he does. I think strenuous stuff is stupid and not usually worth the work." He shrugged, smiling. "But if it was for some things I can see why…"

He smiled. Good… at least the boy didn't seem hurt …

Alfred rested his head against Arthur's belly. "…Am I gonna ever get any little brothers?"

Arthur blinked in slight surprise at the question before him. It had been remarkable enough that they'd found another continent in the first place… "I… I guess 'at k'nd of depends…"

"Are you ever gonna have any babies?"

The pirate went bright red; almost enough so to compete with the jacket he normally wore. "I… n-no Alfred… I don't believe so-o… See… men c'n't do that…" Oh heavens please not this talk…

"Oh… Well Spain said they did…" He hadn't but anything that made Arthur that red had to be worth talking about. "And he taught me some new words, too! Wanna hear?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, practicing his cursing inside his head rather than towards the smaller boy's ears. Please… mercy… "… … A'right…"

He started repeating all the words Spain had said when they went swimming.

Arthur let out a small groan. Now he'd really drag out the Spaniard's death… "Alfred… le's not sa-ay those anymore, alright…?"

"Why not? Are they bad? Why are they bad? And what's 'mierda' mean?" He cocked his head before remembering not to say those anywhere else.

"Very b'd, 'merica… they're j-just… crude…" He wasn't about to explain all the words to the colony, though with the pattern he'd detected it was clear the Spanish words that had been thrown in wouldn't be any better than the English ones…

"Oh…" He fell silent after that, head snuggled up against his brother's lap.

The Englishman rubbed his smaller brother's back, closing his eyes. Maybe it was time to return home after all… he could deal with his foreign churro-eating problems later…

Alfred seemed to fall asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

As England's wound was healing France frequently visited him and taunted him about having a special surprise for him. Alfred seemed to know what he was talking about though he refused to say what exactly it was.

Despite his recent half-success England grew irritable. He certainly wasn't fond of having something dangled in front of his nose for so long, especially when that something smelled a whole lot like decaying fish. It wasn't excitement or anticipation that filled Britain with the proposition of a surprise from France; he was terrified.

One day around the time Britain regained the ability to walk around easily Alfred tried to drag him up on deck to meet his new friend.

Arthur sighed quietly, waving the excited colony to calm down as he followed at a slower pace. "Alright, alright..."

"He talks a lot like you do when you're really mad, but he does it all the time!" He grinned.

The pirate frowned. Waitwut…? That didn't really sound… Happy. Or fun. Or really anything that seemed to interest his colony. So why did he seem so excited…?

Al laughed happily and showed him a little boy in a pink dress. The boy was pouting and moping, clearly either angry, sad, or both.

England stared in shock at the colony before him, taking a few moments to register the sight in front of him. A grin crept across his face. Score number two…

The little boy stood up when he saw England and turned to face him. "…You're my new boss…?"

He gave a small nod, kneeling to the smaller settlement's level with a bit of difficulty. "I am indeed… What's your name…?"

The chibi silently asked for 'up' by putting his arms out. He wouldn't look at England directly and didn't give his name at first.

Arthur smiled slightly, reaching to pick the colony up. He wasn't really as bad as the others made him out to be, now was he…?

He blinked at him. "…I'm Lovino. And you sure as hell really are as god damn ugly as Antonio said. The hell'd you do? Kill an angel? I mean, damn! Those eyebrows are fucking huge!"

The Brit frowned. "Now that's no way to speak to your superiors…"

"Fuck you, bastard! You're never gonna be my superior!" He slapped him across the face with his chibi strength. Unlike Alfred, his strength was proportional to his size. "Just because you're my god damned boss doesn't mean you're better than me!"

He set the child down, folding his arms. He'd been wrong about Romano… "Spain really didn't teach you much etiquette, did he…?"

"Shut the hell up about him! He taught me more than anyone else!" Romano kicked at England angrily. "Stupid son of a bitch."

Arthur scowled, moving to pick him up. "I think you need a bit of time to yourself to think about just what might happen if you continue behaving like this…"

"I know just what the hell'll happen! I'll get traded off again like I always do! Sure be a big ass improvement over you, I know that much." He slapped at his hands angrily. "Don't touch me!"

His eyes glinted. "Who said anything about giving up so easily? What happens if I decide to whip you into shape instead?" Really, he wasn't fond of the idea of having to actually discipline a child, but if that's what it took…

"You'd have to catch me first, dumbass! And Antonio already tried that too." He lied about that. No matter how difficult he'd been Spain had never whipped him. The Netherlands on the other hand… Ouch… "He couldn't hit me hard enough to get me to behave!"

"I never stated anything about hitting you, either." The Englishman bent to grab the boy. "And I'm certain if I'm not able to catch you one of my crew will. It's not as big a boat as you previous boss', after all…"

He jerked away and flipped him the bird. "I don't need a big boat. There's one corner I'm always safe in!"

"Which is what?" he did what he could to stand back up, folding his arms.

"Antonio's corner. He won't let you get me, eyebrows! Or should I say eyebrow!" He smirked triumphantly, feeling like he'd won something.

The nation before the boy clearly wasn't happy at this, motioning for one of the crew to get him. "The fault in this, little one, is that Spain isn't here."

Romano made a mad dash for the hull. The crewman gave England a look. "…Uh…"

"What? What's the problem?" he gave an irritated glance around at the others. This was his ship, wasn't it?

"Well… Spain is here…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "And I've got kids at home who'd likely mob me for harming another child. Or letting one be harmed…"

"WHAT?!" he screeched, spluttering somewhat. "WHY IS THAT LUNATIC ON BOARD WITH US?!" there was also the fact that he'd never actually ordered the child be harmed, but he could touch on that later.

"It was Mr. France's doing. The man's locked and manacled down in the brig under guard. There's no way he could get out." The seaman replied quickly.

He sighed shakily, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to calm himself. Wondrous…

Alfred hugged Iggy's leg. "Surprise~!"

He refrained from speaking, honestly scared of what would come from his throat if he tried to articulate at the moment. He simply nodded instead. At least they had Spain… at least he'd get to take his anger out on something…

Alfred beamed at his brother. "That's what me and France wanted to surprise you with."

"… … Wondrous…" he mumbled.

He giggled. "Yeah it is, huh!?"

The Brit started back for his cabin, feeling a headache start to make itself known.

He didn't stop him from going, though he didn't follow.

After a while, when Arthur had calmed himself down enough to think properly, he wandered back out. Perhaps it had all been a dream… Yes, that was a nice thought… all a dream…

Alfred was gambling with the sailors.

He couldn't help but stare for a moment. Wh… What was this…?! His same innocent little Alfred who'd been toddling off to make mud pies not a year earlier was sitting here gambling with his drunkard crew…!

As he watched Al pulled the whole pile of biscuits in the middle towards himself, grinning. "Awesome!"

He inched towards the others, trying to see what was going on better.

Alfred had just won the pot. The group had been gambling with some sweet biscuits they'd looted from the Spanish ship; not actual currency or anything valuable. As they spotted Arthur they fled.

He frowned, moving to sit beside Alfred.

He looked up. "Hey dude!"

"…Hey…"

"What's up?"

He clearly wasn't quite prepared to answer such a question, giving the chibi an odd look.

"What?" He frowned at him.

"…Nothing… How are you?"

"I'm awesome! I just won churros!"

He smiled slightly. "You certainly did… … What were you playing just now…?"

He shrugged. "Poker. Craps."

He frowned. "When did you learn those…?"

"With Antonio."

A small sigh left his throat. Of course…

"Do you know how to play?" He grinned at him.

A bit of confusion came to the older figure's face. "Well… I… of course I do, but…"

"Wanna go a few rounds?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. It didn't seem quite right, gambling with his colony like that… "Well… I…"

Alfred grinned at him, mostly just curious.

"… … Sure…"

"Awesome!" He beamed and dealt England in.


	8. Chapter 8

A quiet creaking echoed through the dark dungeon-like brig of the ship as England slunk over to the cage where his prize had been kept. Antonio hadn't escaped his wrath, even if he had delayed it…

Antonio was sitting on his cot in the corner, back up against the wall and legs stretched out in front of him. His immobilized hands were off to the side of his body and his fingers played with something there. When he heard footsteps approaching he looked up. When he saw it was England he beamed. "Buenos dias!"

The nation glared at Antonio, leaning against a wall a ways away.

"I've been wondering when you'll show up~" His voice was a bit quieter now; like he didn't want to disturb someone. "I thought you'd be down here awhile before now."

"Yes, well… I was busy with other matters…" If the Spaniard was too stupid to know what they were, it wasn't worth explaining.

He chuckled. "Still. A gunshot shouldn't keep you down for that long. It should be permanently."

He growled quietly. "It takes more than your poor shot to keep me down."

"Ah, so rude a response to such a polite comment… I'm glad my little tomato has more manners than you do."

He puffed up. "You didn't bother to teach that thing any manners at all! He's a complete dragon!"

Antonio growled, shifting his hands slightly. "Please don't be so rude. Lovi's right here, after all."

"Good, I hope he hears! He'd be much easier to deal with nicely if he'd just learn some respect, and you're clearly not teaching him what he needs!"

"I'm doing my best. But when the whole world gives up on someone they tend to give up on themselves." He snapped. "Besides, take a look at your monstrosity! He's no better than Lovino!"

"At least he has the decency to give his elders respect! He might have a short attention span, but he truly tries to be kind towards others!"

He rolled his eyes, returning to playing with the thing by his fingers without another word. A single chibi finger made its way up from off the side of Spain's legs, directing its message at England before retreating again. Spain chuckled.

The man glared at the dimly lit cell. He'd learn etiquette sooner or later… Once Spain was gone he'd have to…

"Well, he certainly has common sense. Something you can't say for your charge." He looked over at the blond.

"Common sense? To disrespect the captain of your captors?" he cocked his head. "Under normal circumstances, wouldn't that simply get you killed?"

"The common sense is that he hates you as much as I do. That'll serve him well in the future. And there will never be any other kind of circumstances for any of us. Only special~"

He snickered. "Not for you…"

"Oh? And why's that?"

The man leaned closer. "Because when we get back to London, I'm going to make sure you never see the light of day or a decent hour of rest ever again."

"Ah, how will you accomplish that? You see, unlike you, I have friends that can get me out of any situation~"

He shook his head, starting for the door. The best friend he'd ever seen grace the undeserving Spaniard had been that child…

"And, I'm not your prisoner!" He called after. "Francis caught me!"

He Brit froze up slightly. What…? France had actually caught someone…?

He folded his arms. "So no London for me."

"We'll just see about that…" he growled, stalking up the stairs to find Francis.

Francis was playing patty cake with Matthew up on deck.

He moved over to the pair, waiting patiently.

The other blond looked up at him as they finished a round.

"Can I speak with you for a moment?"

"Of course, Angleterre." He smiled at him.

He started for the cabins, not quite in the mood to speak of his recent embarrassment out in the open with his crew members and underling running around.

France kissed Matthew's cheek goodbye and followed him.

He sat down at his desk, folding his arms. "… Antonio said you were his captor."

"Not true. I captured Lovino and he followed me on board of his own free will." He smiled. "I then had him arrested."

A sigh left his throat. "All the same, this means that I can't rightfully punish him unless something is worked out between us…"

"Kind of my point. You don't punish him. I do."

His eyes narrowed, slight anger fogging in them. "What…? But that's hardly right! I should think you'd go softer on the wanker; you two were too friendly towards each other before this!"

"And we still are close friends. He was merely looking after Matieu while I had some business to attend to. I will not punish him too severely. He was only doing what we were and trying to expand our territory." France folded his arms.

"He already had colonies, though! I should think that that Romano child would be enough for him, don't you? Honestly, one of them if not all three would have ended up starving on the streets somewhere had he been allowed to simply keep them!"

"I don't think so. He's at least as strong as you or I. He wouldn't let anything happen to the children." France shrugged.

"Strong doesn't by any means mean responsible, Francis…"

"Non, but it does mean he could hire nannies if he really got bogged down by too many children."

The Englishman growled angrily, letting it drop. He'd get back at Spain later…

France went back to his brother.


	9. Chapter 9

The British ship docked in London harbor a few days after England's confrontation with Spain and France. Their ship was met with a French one, ready to take the other adult nations and their charges across the channel to carry out the sentence against Spain. On the deck of the French ship was a pale man with ruby red eyes and snow white hair.

Matthew stared at the new man, hiding behind Francis halfway. He hadn't really met any of big brother's friends until now, but he could rather safely assume this was one of them if he was on Francis' ship…

France and the new man beamed and hugged each other, the blond giving the other the customary kisses as a greeting. "Mon cheri! It's so good to see you!" "Hallo Francis! Gut sehen Sie auch!"

England glared at the pair, glancing toward his emptying ship. He still had a chance… If he could sneak away while Francis was busy…

The Frenchman was trying to encourage his little brother to chat with his friend, telling him he really had to socialize more.

Spain was led out by a few of the English crew, glancing at England.

He watched the pair warily for a moment before motioning for the crew members to bring Spain further into the town. If he could hide the Spaniard away he just might get away with this…

They obeyed. Spain looked around, frowning. This wasn't the right way… "FRANCIS! GILBERT! THEY'RE KIDNAPPING ME!" The crew hissed angrily and conked him on the head to shut him up. Romano started cussing the grown men out and screaming until they hit him too. France and Prussia looked over at the commotion in surprise.

Arthur cussed under his breath, grabbing his colony and making a run for his home. Stupid loud-mouthed Latino nations…

Alfred let himself be dragged along, frowning slightly. What had that been about? Why had they started screaming? He didn't ask anything out loud, however.

The Englishman pulled himself and Alfred into his smaller home a ways into town, praying his crew had been able to drag Spain and his underling after them.

Unfortunately, back at the harbor, the French and German sailors had fought the English ones. However, they lost sight of the unconscious Latinos in the fray. Francis started cursing up a storm when he realized some crafty Brit must've carried them off after Arthur.

Arthur grinned when he realized he'd actually won the scrap, moving to help Alfred out of his dirty, sea-tattered clothing and into a set that had been waiting at the home for them.

Alfred complained a fair amount about the clothes. "It's too floofy…" His first mate and the others that had managed to pull the nation and a half away knocked on Arthur's door.

He blinked and hurried over to answer, eyes lighting up at the sight. He ushered them inside quickly. "Are they following you…?"

"Not yet, but here will probably be their first target once they realize they're gone." The man dropped the part of Spain he'd been holding. It landed on the ground with a loud thunk.

The Brit nodded, biting his lip for a moment. "… To the tower it is, then. We can lock him up there." He glanced over at the Spaniard's underling, frowning. "Not him, though. We can… we can have the king watch after him with Alfred…"

The men nodded. "I can take them both to the palace if you'd like, sir. They'll be safe with me."

"Good, yes…" he moved to get Alfred.

Alfred was peeping in from the other room, eyes wide. Those guys looked dead…

He trailed over to the colony, trying to pick him up. "Hey…"

He backed away suspiciously.

Arthur frowned. "Alfred… come on now… we have to go, alright? This isn't time for games."

"What did you do to Spain and Romano?" He asked cautiously. The child certainly had a thing for conspiracy theories…

"They're just sleeping right now, I promise…" he tried again. "You're going to go play with Romano at the palace while I have a word with Spain elsewhere…"

"Why do we have to go to the palace? That place is icky."

"Because that's where I know you'll be safe."

"Why won't I be safe in your house, Iggy?"

"Because the last time I left you to watch yourself you ended up letting Antonio take you away from me." His eyes glinted. "Which we'll talk about later, for the record. Now come on, America…"

He sighed but let England coax him out into the open. He was gonna get caned later for sure…

Britain scooped the smaller boy up into his arms, starting for the castle without another word.

The man carrying Romano accompanied him. The others took Spain and admitted him to the Tower of London.

After dropping Alfred off and explaining to his boss what was going on, Arthur stalked to the dark tower at which he was set to make Spain suffer. It wasn't a matter of what France had to say concerning the matter, he couldn't get away with taking his colony like that. Ever.

Spain was just waking up from his smack induced sleep when Arthur entered his cell.

His eyes darkened, more excited butterflies gracing his stomach than he would have liked. "You said something earlier about how this meeting would be canceled…?"

He blinked blearily. "Hm…? Who's there…?"

"Your old friend, 'Toni… We were here to discuss how things have been recently, remember…?"

"Oh that meeting… No, I cancelled it…" He frowned. "What are you doing, Britain?"

"I'm about to start a sermon~" He glanced around the dim room, where several machines lay waiting hungrily to be used. "I'm just not quite certain how I would like to start…" The Brit sauntered closer, watching Antonio. He had the right build for a few of the larger devices… Oh, but some of the smaller ones could be more fun… "Any suggestions?"

"Ah, something nice and catholic would be best~" Antonio beamed back. "I get yelled at if I listen to anything else~"

He gave a small hum, gaze settling on a small screw-driven set a ways away. A smug smile settled on his face, wandering over and blowing the dust off of it. "This is close enough, I believe…~" He started back for the chained Spaniard. "Don't make this difficult for either of us now… I wouldn't want to have to waste my time getting someone to hold you down…"

He eyed him. "I hope you realize I'll not roll over and let you have your way with me. It's just not going to happen."

He grinned. "I never said that. Of course you won't." He frowned slightly, glancing down at the device in his hands. Perhaps this wasn't the best to start with… It wouldn't immobilize him quite enough… he moved back and got a larger machine with a similar build. Arthur glanced over to measure how well the Spaniard was tied down, as it was clear there wouldn't be much cooperation from him.

Antonio was merely restrained with a pair of handcuffs. He wasn't even buckled to the wall like most were.

The Englishman grumbled quietly. They just couldn't make this easy for him, could they...?

Spain smiled at the man's obvious distaste. "What's wrong, amigo? Not strong enough to hold a bull down?"

"You're no bull." he growled, moving to jerk Antonio's leg into the spiked contraption.

The man jerked his limb away violently.

He hissed angrily, tightening his grip and trying to get it back. "You know, I could have chosen worse..."

With his other leg Spain kicked at the blond. "You could also just let me go~" Even then, in this dark predicament, or perhaps because of it, Antonio refused to take his position seriously. He was a light hearted soul and he'd probably go on smiling even after death.

"Not a chance." He growled. "But if you really don't want your kneecaps gone first..."

"I'd really rather not have anything gone, amigo~!" He laughed. "How long do you think you have until Francis and Gilbert arrive with battalions of soldiers and arrest you~?"

He snarled. "They won't be getting the chance to do much for you, even if they find me." growing irritated, the Brit yanked an iron set of grizzly-looking claws from the wall, swinging at the Spaniard. If he couldn't immobilize him, he'd make him loose blood to the point where he couldn't do anything...

Antonio howled in agony as his flesh was ripped into by the claws. He began thrashing, trying to worm his way away from his captor.

A cruel glint came to the emerald green eyes of the Englishman, grinning with something bordering sadism and complete maniacal joy. He'd been waiting so long to get back at Spain...

"You son of a- England I'll kill you!" He hissed, trying to keep the pain out of his voice. He almost managed it, except for the part where he didn't.

He cackled. "If you ever live to get out of these bloody stone walls~!"

"I'll get out, you filthy bastard! Just watch me!" He howled, beginning to worm at his restraints.

He swept at the man again hungrily, barely noticing the weight growing heavier on his arms. Iron wasn't very light... Oh, but that blood... That scarlet blood that somehow seemed so much more beautiful than any other shade he'd seen... It didn't matter now what happened to him; he felt his purpose in life had been fulfilled.

Spain was knocked sideways with the force of the blow, creating a sickening tearing sound as both his flesh and his clothes were wrent from his bones. He couldn't stop the agonized scream that escaped him.

Another joyous laugh left Arthur's throat, kneeling by the man and placing one of the large paws delicately on the Spaniard's back. "I believe they named this one after you, old chap...~"

Antonio hissed as he felt the points press against his back. "You're a filthy sadist, England..." His normally red coat was now seemingly turning black with his blood; white undershirt an angry red.

"Only towards you~" he pressed a bit harder, studying Spain's expression thoughtfully. "Besides, the same could go your direction. Can you really blame me, for wanting to keep my bright little darling away from a filthy pedophile~?" With that the claws came down again, smacking at Antonio's shoulder blades and slowly dragging down to the small of his back.

The man let out yet another animalistic howl. He couldn't stifle it on anything fast enough and the pain left him unable to respond in any kind of language. His overcoat was irreparable thanks to the Spanish Tickler England had been using.

Arthur set down the weapons he'd chosen, tracing small patterns in the blood on the floor with his finger. Oh, the scraping the Spaniard's bones had made against the blackened metal...~ It was really a shame that he couldn't manage it again...

Spain forced himself to look up at Britain. He refused to let himself be beaten like this. He would fight back to save whatever shreds of dignity or pride he had left.

He grinned back at him, a distant, foggy look occupying his eyes. "I think we're ready for our other little friend now, aren't we~?"

He spat at him. "Like... Like something that's never going to happen, you... You..." Antonio closed his eyes momentarily to regain some strength.

"I'm rather certain I can have my way now~" He got up, retrieving the knee splitter that had been so rudely denied before.

Antonio began attempting to crawl away from him. He couldn't stop fighting. And, it seemed he'd been wrong about the 'smiling until death' thing.

The Englishman grabbed for his victim's ankle, yanking harshly to try and pull him back. "We're not through here..."

Spain snarled as he was pulled, the ground severely irritating his fresh wounds. This was bad...

He slid the contraption up to the Spaniard's joint, uncaring if the spikes happened to scrape him on the way. All the more fun for him~

He thrashed his legs angrily, doing his best to kick Britain and or remove his leg from the machine.

The man hissed angrily, jerking the lever downwards to close the snare's maw. "Oh stop that!"

Antonio grunted as the loop closed around his knee. He did his best to ignore the spikes for the moment and quickly pulled a wad of his coat up to his mouth to bite down on. He didn't want England to have the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

He glanced at the door momentarily before proceeding to tighten the splitter's grip. Once he'd taken out Spain's kneecaps, there would be nothing stopping him from toting him around to view all his other fun toys. Even as he watched his victim writhe he started mapping out their little tour. He wanted Antonio to be able to see for the rack, so they'd probably save the iron maiden for later... And of course, they had to be careful on said rack not to kill him- no, that would be the brazen bull's job, as the nation seemed so fond of the particular animal. Yes, this would be fun...~

The brunet nation stiffened immediately, jaw tightening around the fabric in his mouth. Dios that hurt...! No, he had to be strong and stay calm. What would happen if he didn't stay calm? Oh Dios what would happen to Romano when England got a hold of him!? No. He couldn't let that... His mind trailed into oblivion as pain and blood loss sent him spiraling into unconsciousness.

England snickered, satisfaction taking place in his eyes as he heard the crunch of the weak humanoid joint under him. It was quickly replaced by a frown as he found Antonio no longer paying attention. Was he... sleeping...? "Oy...!"

The man didn't stir, eyes closed gently much like in one's slumber.

He snarled, reaching to grab the Spaniard's shoulders. "Get up y' fat git! We're not through yet!"

The man lolled limply in England's grip. He was deeply unconscious and not likely to wake for awhile...

Arthur growled in frustration, smacking the nation and letting him drop. What a disappointment... They couldn't go on like this; it wasn't any fun if he invoked no reaction...

He hit the floor with a smack and a thunk.

England moved to get the Spaniard bandages reluctantly. No point in letting him die before they were through...

There was a hurried hammering on the door.

He scowled, moving to see who was in such a hurry. "What is it?"

It was England's first mate; one of the sailors that had helped bring Antonio to the dungeons. "Captain, we can't stall the frogs any longer! Them and the German are their way here an' they look out for blood!"

The Brit cussed quietly, glancing back at Antonio. It was probably best to leave him... He started for the door in a hurry, praying his opponents hadn't yet reached the door.

The other man cast a quick glance around inside before leading Arthur out a secret passage. You had to love the Brits if only for their fondness for hidden ways out of a sticky situation.

The Brit started for the castle, eyes narrowed. He had to notify the military and shift the colonies to a safer area...

As the two retreated from The Tower what seemed to be the entirety of the French presence in England or at least in London. They looked pretty angry or at least determined for Frenchmen.

He watched for a moment, unsure what to do. He'd made a giant mistake...

The human at his side tugged his arm. "Let's go, Cap'n. The two like yourself won't follow you but I don't know about that mob. Nobody'd dare attack the palace."

He nodded, casting his gaze downward and shuffling towards the castle quickly. He'd get rid of them... It was just a simple mob, not an army...

The man followed about two paces behind him, looking on edge despite his words.  
Arthur was allowed into the castle without a word. Everybody knew him there and, even if they didn't know who he was, they knew he was pretty important and to leave him alone.

Arthur stalked towards the room he was certain the king would have locked away the children in, trying the door.

There was screaming, crying, and as he got closer the crash of something clearly valuable all coming from inside the room.

He frowned, slipping inside. "What's going on...?" He'd forgotten in his haste to change into cleaner clothing...

Lovino and Alfred were fighting. Well... Perhaps fighting wasn't the right word. Lovino, tears of unknown origin streaming down his red cheeks, was verbally abusing the stronger chibi in all the languages he could think to use. Naturally most of it was unintelliable but the insults that were very bad. Alfred didn't seem to understand most of them, but when he caught one he did he'd either kick or punch Lovino like children do. But, the boy was much stronger than other children and even his half hearted hits left bruises on the other.

"Alfred!" the Englishman snapped, eyes narrowing. "Is that any way to treat a guest?!"

Alfred whipped around, looking angry. "Have you heard what he's been calling you, Iggy!? He's bein' a big jerk to you and he won't take any of it back!"

He sighed quietly, moving to separate them. "It's not really a matter to me what he says; it's rightful anger, after all." England tried to pick Romano up. "Now apologize at once. We won't have any violence among us, you hear?"

Both of the boys suddenly spotted the blood on England's clothing. Romano screamed and backed away as quickly as his battered body would allow him to. America's eyes grew huge. "I-Iggy...?" Suddenly he sounded scared.

The man closed his eyes for a moment. Great... "It's alright, everything's okay..."

"But... But that's so much blood... It's more than you had when you were shot..." Those nervous eyes surveyed him in a panic.

"I promise America, everything's fine." he tried to coax Lovino into calming down, cursing himself for failing to change.

Romano refused to let England get near him. "What the hell did you do to Spain you god damned bastard!? Where the fuck is he!? I want the stupid tomato bastard back here right this second, you hear me!?"

"Antonio won't be back for quite a while," Arthur said, trying to keep his tone gentle. It wasn't the child's fault, after all... there was no real need to punish him... "He's left you in my care for now..." his gaze flicked to Alfred, motioning for him to come closer.

Alfred sidled over to his big brother, hugging his leg. Romano let out a terrified laugh. "Like hell he did! He hates your guts! That's the same fucking excuse he used to get those two losers in his grip in the first place!" He pointed accusingly at Al. "He'd never leave me with such a miserable fucking cook!"

He rubbed his colony's back, frowning slightly. "Now now, no need for that kind of language... honestly, I'm sure he's on his way back home right now. Said he needed to have some things done. But I'm sure once he's back on his feet he'll be breaking down my door for you anyway..."

"Fuck you, ass! I'll use whatever kind of language a damn well want!" The boy started shaking uncontrollably, looking almost like he was dancing. "'f he had errands then what the hell were they!?"

Arthur knelt down. "He had to deal with a few problems in his cities. There were a couple uprisings and things aren't looking very well." It was all complete lies, but he had to get on the chibi's better side... He paused for a moment, watching the boy confusedly. "...Are you alright...?"

"Shut the hell up and get off my case, jackass!" He hissed, still trembling. "Boss'd never leave me when he went on travels! Especially not with the likes of you!"

Another sigh left his throat. "Alright, alright... It's clear this isn't going to work very well. The bottom line is, Antonio can't be around to help you out at the moment, so I'm taking the task into my hands."

"I'd rather rot in the streets than stay with you, you stuck up son of a bitch! You and your king and your 'brother' can all go rot in hell!"

His expression fell, growing irritable. "Now you just stop this foolishness; it's uncalled for."

"Uncalled for my ass! You kidnapped me!"

The Brit stood back up, moving to grab the smaller boy. Enough was enough, and he was sick of hearing it. He wouldn't wrack up the nerve to hurt the child, never- but there was just enough in him to want to lock him away for a while.

Romano shrieked as England's hand clamped down on several bruises from Alfred, struggling weakly.

He raised the child to his level, doing what he could to keep him in his arms comfortably. "I think it's about time for bed..."

Romano didn't stop struggling, his continued twitching making him even more difficult to hold. "I'm not sleeping anywhere near here!"

"That's where you're mistaken." He snorted, glancing back at Alfred.

Alfred released England's legs, smiling up at him. Lovino spat at Arthur.

He managed a small smile back before trying to calm Spain's underling. This was going to be more of a challenge than he thought...

"Hey Iggy, can I try to calm him down?" America asked earnestly. "Please?" Romano began flailing, kicking and hitting at England. He somehow managed to keep up a steady stream of curses as he did so.

He blinked in surprise, trying to keep from wincing at a few of the southern colony's blows. "Are... I... ... Alright... no more hitting though, alright? We'll have a talk about that later." He shut the door once more, setting Romano down carefully.

Alfred put Romano in a choke-hold, cutting off his air supply pretty quickly. Lovino went limp before England could have even tried to stop it. America let him go and he fell to the floor with a loud smack. "There."

Arthur let out a startled yelp, kneeling down to make sure his colony hadn't killed the boy. "Alfred...!"

Lovino was alive, though he had another bruise forming. This time around his neck.

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose before scooping the child up. "Come on then..." It was clear he wasn't through with his rant, though it would have to wait. They needed somewhere safe to stay the night...

Al grinned and trotted after his brother.

The Englishman found them a temporary home where a citizen had recently died, leaving the building vacant. He lit a couple candles and set about getting the children into night clothes.

Alfred changed without complaint, looking excited and pestering Arthur with questions about their 'camping adventure'. Romano remained unconscious.

Arthur managed to get their 'guest' out of his ridiculous dress and into some reasonable clothing, glancing at Alfred without answering most of the questions. "...America."

"Yeah, Iggy?" He grinned at him, not seeming to care that most of his inquirries had been ignored.

He sat down beside the smaller boy. "May I speak with you for a moment?"

"Of course, Iggy~!" The boy beamed.

He moved to pick the boy up. "You know it wasn't nice... what you did to Lovino back there..."

Alfred's face fell. "But he was saying all these nasty things about you and being really rude and all this stuff... He had it coming!"

"I know, I know..." He rubbed his back. "All the same... He'll be living with us for a small while now, and I want to make sure you two don't fight like that anymore..."

He sighed. "Well... Why does he have to stay with us? He's mean to everybody!"

"Because Spain won't be around to take care of him anymore, and I really think if he's disciplined right we can change him." he gave the colony a small hug.

Alfred nestled his head against England's arm. "You're gonna break a lot of birch on his back..." He predicted glumly.

He managed a small chuckle, glancing at Lovino for a few moments. "... Heavens... Alfred, don't ever let me forget again what a good colony you actually are..." If that's what Spain had to deal with on a daily basis... Goodness...

The blond giggled. "Wouldn't dream of it, Iggy~" Mentally he made a note to stop with the mud pies in the prince's bed.

Arthur stood with the boy, moving to put him to bed. "Hopefully by tomorrow we'll be back in our own home..."

Al nodded, letting Arthur tuck him in. "Yeah... This place smells like fish..."

He smiled, rubbing Alfred's shoulder and blowing out the candle. "Good night..."

"G'night, Iggy..." Came the sleepy reply accompanied by a quiet rustling of fabrics.


	10. Chapter 10

Romano was an absolute angel for England the first, oh, twenty four hours or so. The bruises Alfred had left on his body were an unpleasant 'suggestion' to behave or take more abuse.

Arthur made certain that he got treated well because of this. He did what he could to give both the colonies equal amounts of attention, even going so far as to constructing a new bed for Romano.

The boy was still Romano, however, and as soon as his bruises weren't so sensitive he was cussing like a man several times his apparent age. He refused to sleep in the bed England made for him, sleeping instead on the floor.

Britain gave up trying to get him to accept his attention after a while, simply making sure he had what he needed to survive and providing what counseling he could if he ever found the boy willing to listen.

The chibi would never listen and when Britain began trying to counsel him he'd strike at him. He'd scavenge in the palace garden for fresh carrots before he ate the 'god damned slop' England tried to feed him. He even went so far as to try running away.

The Brit started to lose his patience with the smaller boy, threatening him with imprisonment several times.

Typically a threat would buy anywhere from ten minutes to an hour of good behaviour depending on how severe and detailed the threat.

Eventually he moved to contact those at the Tower to see if any of them knew if Spain had actually survived. This was just too much...!

They told him that Spain had been removed from the tower still breathing. What had become of him since was a mystery. He was most likely in France or Spain or Prussia or somewhere else entirely.

He sighed quietly, heading back home. Once they knew where he was he'd return the child...

Romano had ruined another tapestry by the time England got back to the palace.

England grumbled quietly, moving to speak with him.

The boy saw him coming and tried to split.

He ran after him. "Lovino!"

He screamed and sped up.

The Englishman hissed in irritation, trying to catch up. Why was the kid so darn fast...?!

Lovino scrambled around a corner and knocked a man over. The man yelped and sat up angrily, catching Romano around the leg.

Arthur sighed, hurrying over. "Terribly sorry about that..."

The man growled. "Is this your child?"

He nodded, moving to take him.

He held the boy out of range despite his struggling. "You need to teach this brat some manners."

"I understand..." he folded his arms. "That's actually the reason the chase even started."

"Well you better give him a hard smacking." He dropped Romano and smacked him towards England. The boy whimpered in pain and tried to scramble away from both of them.

England reached to grab the colony, eyes glinting.

Lovino bit at his hand and resumed fleeing.

He hissed and ran after the smaller boy, calling for him angrily.

He hid behind a flower vase.

The Brit rounded the corner quickly, trying to see where the child had gone off to.

His poofy dress that he insisted on wearing poked out from the side.

He frowned, moving over to get him. "Romano... stop this..."

"Why the hell should I listen to you!?" He snarled. "Damn kidnapper!"

"Because even if I took you for a while does not make it acceptable to destroy my home. When I know where Spain is, we can go visit him, but for now you have to come out here and apologize for the tapesty and to the man you bothered."

"Fuck that! I'm never going to apologize to you or anyone in this damn country! I know where Boss is! But when I tried to got to him you stopped me!"

He frowned. "Now now... You said you know where he is?"

"Yeah." Romano lied easily. His thought process was that he could find Spain pertty easily if he could get to the country. His boss only had two houses besides the palace they stayed at... How hard could it be to find him?

"Where…?"

"I'm not telling you! You'll just hunt him down and kill him!"

He sighed quietly. "Well I can't very well let you run off until I know you'll be back with him safely." He couldn't really say he was very fond of either of them right now, but he had no grounds to let the colony wither away...

Lovino snorted, glancing away. "Jackass..."

The Brit reached to pick him up.

He begrudgingly let him.

He started for his room, rubbing the child's back absently. "You know, if you'd just learn some courtesy people would treat you much better..."

"That's bull shit. And stop rubbing my back like some pedo."

He frowned. "I'm being sincere... I don't really know what happens in Spain, but here if you're kind to people they generally return the favor..."

"Ah screw that." He snorted. "I'd rather be a recluse."

He couldn't help but roll his eyes. "You make a rather outspoken recluse..."

Romano shot him a glare.

He slipped into the room and shut the door tightly, setting Lovino down on the bed.

The child folded his arms angrily.

"Are you going to behave…?"

"For you? No way in hell."

He sighed quietly. "Do you really wish to make a trip to prison...?"

"You couldn't keep me inside." He looked away.

He raised a thick eyebrow. "Oh? How certain of that are you?"

He looked away without answering.

The Brit stood, moving to pick Romano back up. "I'll tell you what. If you can manage to break from one of my prisons within a day, I'll help you go looking for Antonio."

He growled, trying to get away. "I don't want your help, dammit! Just let me go on my own!"

"I can't do that, Romano. Besides, even if you were aware of where he was, you'd have to cross water to get to him..." Oh the advantages of being an island nation...

"I know where he is! And... Um... I could stow away on a ship or something... I just..." He frowned, having always been awful with geography. "...Shit..."

He couldn't help but chuckle. "So. Just try and behave a little better, alright?"

"..." Romano looked down, an idea forming in his mind. "...Can I have a quill and some parchment or something to write on?"

"...Of course..." England blinked in a bit of surprise, moving to fetch the items Lovino had requested.

While he was gone Romano tried his best to remember where he'd seen the birds that sent messages.

He returned shortly with the paper and quill, setting them down for Lovino.

He started scribbling on the paper in Italian.

Arthur left to make sure everything was in order, locking the door from the outside.

Romano tried to sneak out the window to the 'mailroom'.  
Alfred was half heartedly cleaning up Romano's mess.

England smiled, some of his tension leaving at the sight of his first colony. He could be loud and at times a bit too rowdy, but Alfred had a good heart... He knelt by him to help clean.

Alfred looked up at him. "Hey Iggy! What'cha doin'?"

"I had to deal with Romano..." he glanced back at the mess. "I can't quite understand the boy..."

"I do! He's a jerk and you should drown him!"

He rolled his eyes. "You know I couldn't do that. He's just... misguided. And scared." Though he was starting to doubt even that... maybe it would just punish Spain worse to give the brat back while he was recovering...

America shrugged. "If that's misguided and scared then what does mean look like?"

"…Very similar."

"Then how can you tell which one he is?"

"By the circumstances he was put under." He smiled weakly at him. "I felt the same way when Spain took you from me. Hopefully he'll come around soon enough..."

"Spain or foul-mouth?" He cocked his head. "'Cause if Spain comes around ain't nobody gonna be happy."

"Romano." He rolled his eyes. He had no hope for the Spaniard...

"Oh." He smiled. "Okay."

He smiled back, standing. Thank you for helping out so much over the past few weeks... "I'm sorry I haven't been able to spend much time with you..."

"Aw, it's no big deal, Iggy. I found stuff to do. ...The rat was a casualty of war. Not a mean act against royalty. I swear."

He glanced over at him, a sinking feeling growing in his stomach. Not again... "Rat?"

He blinked blankly at him. "...Nooooo...?"

"Alfred, what rat?"

"Exactly."

He sighed quietly, certain he'd find out soon enough what the boy had been talking about anyway.

Alfred gave his brother a hug. "Just remember he had it comin'..."

Arthur rolled his eyes, returning the embrace. Always someone else's fault...

He smiled at him and let go.

He stood, starting for the throne room "Just stay out of further trouble, alright...?"

"Sure thing, Artie~"

He smiled, disappearing down the hall.

He waved goodbye.


End file.
